


diluvian

by spookykingdomstarlight



Series: quintessence [2]
Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Kissing, Post-Rogue One, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-09
Updated: 2017-01-09
Packaged: 2018-09-15 22:54:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9261749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spookykingdomstarlight/pseuds/spookykingdomstarlight
Summary: “You’re enjoying this.” Tugging her forward, he pressed his lips against the top of her head, all the while glaring at the scene outside, willing it to bend to his desires. Her hair smelled vaguely of the astringent soap almost no one on the base liked to use except to scrub ship parts that had gotten too greasy. He just wanted to go home. “Who ever heard of a whole city coming to a standstill over a little rain?”





	

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the [Themed Prompt Table challenge](http://monthlysupergo.dreamwidth.org/932.html) going on over at the [Monthly Challenge! Super Go! community](http://monthlysupergo.dreamwidth.org) on Dreamwidth. This piece is for the prompt: water.

Lightning arced across the gray, blaster-casing colored sky, the bruised clouds purpling in the flare of light of the harsh, white light. Cassian peered at the display from behind a transparisteel window as rain spattered against it. Brutal, pummeling, it harbored a personal vendetta against the building or Cassian himself maybe. It seemed so anyway.

Cassian could understand the feeling. Repeatedly tapping his knuckles against the wall next to the window, he leaned against it, the duracrete cool against his side, his arm, his temple. There wasn’t much to see out there except the storm, but that wasn’t going to stop Cassian from keeping watch anyway.

“Are you always this tense?” Jyn asked. He twisted slightly to look at her as she lounged in one of the chairs arrayed indifferently in the center of the room, one leg hooked over the armrest, the other tucked beneath her. A datapad was wedged against her thigh, long forgotten, perhaps in favor of pestering Cassian. That had become something of a specialty for her and she was very, very good at it.

“You know the answer to that.” He crossed his arms and glared out the window, his reflection glowering at him in return. He stopped that, having found Jyn the more pleasant sight. “I don’t like delays.”

A smile twisted the corner of her mouth and gave her a mischievous little dimple. If you would have asked Cassian when they first met if Jyn was capable of anything approaching mischievousness, he would’ve laughed in your face. And though Jyn still wasn’t the most boisterous of people, would never be, she had learned how to relax in a way Cassian still found surprising. And sometimes envied.

Maybe this was how Jyn always was underneath the instability that had defined so much of her life. Funny, then, that she’d found this side of herself with the Alliance, the least stable organization in the whole galaxy—at least it felt so to Cassian some days.

Most days.

“It’s a storm.” The chair’s leather creaked as she pushed herself up, her weight on her hands as she disentangled her legs. “It’ll pass.”

“So will the opportunity to get this information out.”

“The briefing said—”

He scrubbed his hand across his face and sighed. “Frequent, violent storms that can be over in minutes or the matter of a few hours. I know. Just—don’t pay me any mind.” He tried to smile at her in return, but it felt like an awkward, impossible thing to accomplish, and so he gave it up before he made a fool of himself. “I’m still not used to a having a partner for these things, you know.”

Sobering, Jyn strode toward him, her glance barely straying to the object of Cassian’s attention. “So you had no one to stop you from brooding.”

“The longer you stay in one place, the more things can go wrong.” His knuckles rapped against the window again. “I wouldn’t call that brooding.”

“Well, whatever you want to call it,” she said, taking his hand in hers and lacing their fingers together. Her palm was warm and mostly soft, though calloused at the base of her thumb. “There’s not a whole lot we can do about it until the storm is over.”

“You’re enjoying this.” Tugging her forward, he pressed his lips against the top of her head, all the while glaring at the scene outside, willing it to bend to his desires. Her hair smelled vaguely of the astringent soap almost no one on the base liked to use except to scrub ship parts that had gotten too greasy. He just wanted to go home. “Who ever heard of a whole city coming to a standstill over a little rain?”

“I did, when General Draven mentioned that it could be a problem.” Her cheek pressed against his clavicle while the fingers of her other hand wiggled up under Cassian’s jacket and danced up his spine. “And I wouldn’t exactly call this _a little_ rain.” She sniffed as though to further punctuate her point. “Besides, who doesn’t like a break every once in a while?”

“It’s not that much rain,” he replied, though he knew he was just being obstinate now, purposelessly so. He didn’t bother answering her other question. They both knew what he would say regardless. _I don’t like breaks_.

“If I didn’t know any better, Cassian Andor, I’d accuse you of not wanting to spend time alone with me.”

Now Cassian did smile and it didn’t feel quite as unnatural as it should have. Good thing Jyn couldn’t see it, not with her head tucked under his chin the way it was. She might have given him a hard time about it and that just wouldn’t do. “I don’t mind that part so much,” he said. Anyone might have guessed it and a lot of people probably had. And though it might not have been much of an admission, his heart caught and trapped itself in his throat all the same, stopping him from spilling any more of his more inane secrets.

Her lips touched what patches of skin it could reach, a thin sliver of his throat exposed through the partially undone collar of his shirt. They were warm and soft, not at all calloused, nor even chapped, and he was certain she could count out the way his pulse shot up at that simple touch. He brushed at the hair that framed her face, pushed it behind her ear, and waited until Jyn tilted her chin up to press his thumb against her jaw.

Brushing the knuckle of his index finger over her cheek, he bent slightly to press his mouth to hers. This wasn’t exactly regulation, what he was doing, but nobody could begrudge this of either him or Jyn; he wouldn’t let them. Scarif had already threatened to take everything from them and it had failed. What could his peers do that the Imperial war machine could not?

Besides, it wasn’t like they were the only ones who’d done what they’re doing. Not by a long shot.

When Jyn pulled away, he followed her instinctively, leaning toward her, eyes closed. But all she did was shake her head and squeeze his side. “Come on,” she said finally. “I know what’ll make you feel better.”

“And what’s that?” he asked, tentatively amused.

With a little more swagger than was entirely necessary, she returned to the chair and picked up the datapad. Tossing it to him, she dropped into the now entirely empty seat and crossed her legs. “Let’s go over the plan again.”

“What’s there to plan? You make sure I don’t get shot. I make sure I don’t say anything that’ll get me or you shot.” He tossed the datapad back at her and strode forward. “I think you’re teasing me.”

“Maybe,” she said, shoving the datapad back into the chair. “What are you going to do about it?”

A very distinct lack of sound drew his attention back to the window. The rain had slowed to a trickle, barely pattering against the transparisteel. When Cassian looked closer, he saw that a wind had picked up and was pushing the clouds further to the south. A lucky break. Or perhaps an unlucky one. He might not admit it, but Jyn had convinced him that a few hours of downtime would make for a welcome change. Still. Duty called. “Plenty,” he said, “once we’re off this miserable planet.”

“Well, then.” Jyn dusted her hands across her thighs. “What are we waiting for?”

Smirking, Cassian nodded toward the window.

What were they waiting for indeed.


End file.
